


Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice

by scribblemyname



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU - Canon Divergent, Conversations, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, MCU Characterization, Married Arguments, Married Couple, mcu flash meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/scribblemyname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbi and Clint keep in touch on their journey back to each other from missions halfway around the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Wanted to Hear Your Voice

Bobbi didn't think she could live with Clint if they weren't constantly on missions halfway around the world. She could love him, press him against a wall so they could make each other see stars, even _marry_ him, but shut them up together in one place of residence for longer than a week and they started to drive each other mad.

"Don't touch those!" he ordered abruptly from the hallway before she could successfully whisk his dirty dishes from among the discarded tools he was using to build… something.

Bobbi ground her jaw and left the dishes with something of an insincere smile on her face as she passed him.

He dropped his head to stare at the ceiling and mutter something to himself, probably along the lines of a prayer for patience. Which, _Clint_ needing patience?

"You know, I wouldn't have to clean up after you if you'd clean up after yourself," she pointed out, crossing her arms as her eyes narrowed. Their apartment was small and she couldn't stand the clutter.

"I'll clean it up when I'm done," he snapped.

Bobbi just rolled her eyes and turned to leave the never ending argument. Clint was never _done_.

They both vented on each other's bodies that night, leaving bruises and teeth marks, and she was sore enough to feel both smugness and a twinge of regret the next morning. It's not like she didn't appreciate how good he was at the entire sexual act.

It was still a bit of a relief when Fury called and she snapped her phone shut with an apologetic smile that brought relief to Clint's eyes as well.

"Baghdad," she said simply.

He looked at her skeptically. "Not your language."

"I don't have to blend in much." She shook her head. "It's a good cover."

He nodded, understanding what the sparse details implied. They both worked for SHIELD, so they both knew the rules of need to know and plausible deniability.

"I'll call," she said, sincerely, and kissed him a long time before she headed out the door.

* * *

"You call home often," Melinda noted when Bobbi was settling in beside her for another day of 'let's watch the target's house from the van and die of boredom.'

Bobbi shrugged. "He's got good ideas, and kills some of the time." She actually loved Clint's sense of humor and the way he'd tell her stories about his side of the world and Natasha throwing a pillow at him in the safehouse at night to get him to shut up and make Bobbi feel like she wasn't alone, but just wrapped her up in his voice and steady presence.

Melinda shot her an unimpressed glance. "You miss him."

Bobbi wasn't sure how to respond to that, just breathed in a little too tightly and changed the subject. "See anything yet?"

"Of course," Melinda replied promptly. "Three hummingbirds have visited the feeder, and a squirrel ran up the side of the tree."

Bobbi refused to let herself groan from boredom.

* * *

"Coffee shop," Bobbi stated into the phone, let Clint mull over the two-word hint and the ambient noises around her that came through. She kept the phone pressed close against her ear to cut off more of the soft chatter of other patrons and grinned.

"Italy," he replied. Promptly too, the smug jerk.

She narrowed her eyes and demanded, "How do you do that?"

His laugh crossed the miles on her way home, and she could practically see him leaning back comfortably in preparation to rib her. "It's a gift."

"It's your partner," she retorted.

Clint snorted derisively. "I don't need Natasha to tell me you like your coffee strong, and if you were in France, you'd be calling it a café."

"It's called being in character, Barton."

"I count on it," he said smugly.

She decided to throw him off on her next stop.

* * *

It was a game with them, the calls home, the guesswork of who was where on their journey back to each other. She always knew when he was back at SHIELD headquarters before rotating back out by the distinctive scowl underlying his voice and occasional curses punctuating his conversation. He always knew when she was on an airplane, no matter how many wildly misleading hints she gave him.

 _How does he do that?_ she asked Natasha via text on a burner phone.

_He calls it your reading voice. Claims you always sound the same when you have a book._

And there were precious few times or places Bobbi actually bothered _reading_ the book when she wasn't safe at home where her attention to her surroundings wasn't a paramount consideration in ongoing survival.

She glared at the phone, but it wasn't like she didn't know Clint's tells too.

* * *

Someplace cold with that comfortable laidback sound in his voice that came after hours on a stakeout, and she could hear the faint shivers of ice cracking off of tree branches. Unlike Clint, she actually kept an eye on the intelligence and missions floating through SHIELD before a field agent was attached and pegged him squarely.

"Canadian wilderness."

"I hate you," he commented with little heat. He never had any for her when he was on one of these. He always had plenty of gripes, but Bobbi knew perfectly well that Clint actually _liked_ these missions and it was Nat who would be doing the real scowling.

"Love you too," she murmured, making sure her smug smile affected the sound of her voice.

He huffed, half protest, half chuckle, and they let the warmth hang between them a little longer.

* * *

"I am three stops from back home, and I will quit if you send me back overseas," she informed Coulson bluntly when he stopped by her medical bed at the SHIELD base in California where she was currently getting a checkup before picking up an office infiltration job.

Coulson smiled mildly in spite of her glare. "I just stopped by to say, 'Good job.'"

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. "That's it?"

"Well, there might be a tiny…"—he hesitated momentarily—"small favor I need to ask. It's not overseas," he hastened to add.

She sighed and took the job.

* * *

"You're behind schedule," Clint told her with a frown on her next call from an airport instead of the expected safehouse in a midwestern state.

"Nice to know you checked," Bobbi replied curtly, unwilling to express frustration or any regret at all at keeping him waiting. It wasn't like they even wanted to share an apartment most of the time. They just didn't like to miss the windows when they did. "I'll only be delayed a day."

"Ah, fine." He grumped a little but told her the latest saving Natasha from her own reckless self story and made her laugh as if they were actually together.

* * *

She did eventually get home, all the frustration of the last time they were physically in one location washed away by missions, the air of other countries, the other things they loved about each other.

Clint had already sprawled out beneath the covers, having got in a day before her. Bobbi took only a moment to note he was mostly asleep before hitting the shower and dumping her stuff off in the closet to be dealt with in the morning. Unlike Clint, she liked to keep her messes somewhat contained.

She crawled under the covers and let one leg slide between his and her other knee dig into the mattress as she took in his blinking expression as he came alert and then the crinkle of a welcoming smile she couldn't help but return.

She pressed down against him, kissed him as he pulled her close in the warm circle of his arms, and reveled for a moment in the pleasure of coming home.


End file.
